#vast majority of the time everything is fucking fine like actually

[forest-from-the-trees]

god i wish i knew what was wrong with me

[atzaurora]

Can I request an Ateez Yeosang where the reader is at the concert and after send off Yeosang notices a blood stain on her skirt and pull her to the side and take her to his hotel. As they get to his room her cramps are unbearable so he fingers her and then fucks her until she feels better?

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] crimson nights

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Yeosang

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!fan!reader x idol!yeosang

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: strangers to ?, idol x fan

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Who knew that her period during a concert would actually be something positive? As Yeosang takes her back to his hotel room due to the visible stain on her skirt, the atmosphere quickly shifts and leads to something far more exciting...

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: 3.0k

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: I have a few open requests and I'm trying to get them all done!! so in case you have requested something, it is being worked on <3 always feel free to leave requests, I love writing them ! enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here!

[about me] + [guidelines]!

In the throbbing heart of the stadium, the electric air buzzed with the excitement of thousands of fans, their energy almost tangible. The concert’s final notes resonated through the space, a sweet symphony of voices and instruments that seemed to hang in the atmosphere, lingering in every corner of the vast venue. As the lights dimmed, the cheers rose to a deafening crescendo, and the eight figures on stage took their final bows, sweat glistening on their faces like stardust under the glow of the stage lights. Amid the sea of waving lightsticks and reaching hands, you stood with your heart pounding, the thrill of the music still pulsing through your veins.

As the sea of fans began to disperse, you caught fleeting glimpses of ATEEZ as they made their way toward the exit, waving and smiling at the devoted crowd. Your eyes locked with Yeosang’s for a brief, electrifying moment, and his smile grew a notch wider as he heard your cheering from the mass of people. You called out to them, expressing your admiration and telling them how much you enjoyed the performance. Being so close to them felt surreal—like a dream—but the energy between you and Yeosang made it feel incredibly real.

When the send-off concluded, the crowd slowly began to dissipate, leaving behind only echoes of excitement and the harsh lights of reality. You lingered at the edge of the stadium, allowing the rush of people to fade before you followed. Organizing your belongings, you made sure everything was accounted for, taking your time before heading out. The stadium grew quieter as the majority of Atinys made their way home, leaving a hushed atmosphere in their wake. You were about to join them when you felt a soft touch on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned quickly, your heart skipping a beat as you faced the person before you. Your breath caught in your throat—it was Yeosang. Your bias, standing right in front of you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Yeosang? What—" Words failed you as your mind raced to catch up with the situation. "Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you," he apologized, pulling his hand away with a soft, reassuring smile.

"Oh, no, it’s fine," you quickly reassured him, trying to steady your nerves.

His smile deepened, and he continued, "I just wanted to let you know that you have a blood stain on your skirt. I assume it’s... you know, that time of the month?" He chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you were grateful for his honesty. "Oh my God, thank you for telling me. Yeah, I’ve been on my period since yesterday," you admitted, quickly wrapping your hoodie around your waist to cover the stain.

Yeosang’s expression remained kind and understanding, and he didn’t shy away from the conversation. Ever the gentleman, he offered a solution that made your heart skip a beat. "I’m staying at a hotel nearby," he said. "If you’d like, I could take you there so you can freshen up a bit." His tone was casual, but the offer felt incredibly personal.

You nodded without hesitation, still not fully believing this was happening. "Yes, that would be great," you agreed, your voice laced with excitement and disbelief.

The car ride to the hotel was a blur of nerves and awkward laughter, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. You sat there, acutely aware of the fabric of your skirt sticking to your skin, your mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. Yeosang, ever considerate, made sure to help you out of the car while keeping your skirt discreetly covered, shielding you from any potential embarrassment. He walked beside you, guiding you from the car, through the hotel’s entrance, and into the elevator that would take you to his room.

The hotel suite was a stunning contrast to the chaos of the stadium—vast, luxurious, and filled with a quiet elegance that put you at ease. As Yeosang led you inside, his eyes met yours with a silent question, his concern for you palpable. He gently guided you to the bathroom, his hand resting lightly on your back, offering comfort as you battled the sharp cramps that had been a constant, dull throb throughout the concert. You bit your lip, trying to mask the pain, but Yeosang noticed immediately, his gaze darkening with concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine care. You nodded, attempting to downplay the pain, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Without another word, Yeosang scooped you into his arms, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. Your heart raced, both from the pain and the surreal nature of the situation. He carried you to the bed, laying you down with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. His hands smoothed over your stomach, warm and comforting, as he whispered, "You’re in pain."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes, the overwhelming combination of pain and his kindness making you emotional. Yeosang didn’t hesitate—he disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a glass of water and painkillers. You took them gratefully, your eyes following his every move as he tended to you with a quiet efficiency that spoke volumes about his character.

As the medication began to take the edge off your cramps, the tension in the room shifted, growing thick with unspoken emotions. Yeosang sat beside you, his eyes dark and intense as he reached out, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. "I can help," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him in surprise, but before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss.

The pain of your cramps momentarily faded into the background as he claimed you, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate exchange that left you breathless. Yeosang pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours as he reached for the hem of your skirt. You lifted your hips in silent agreement, allowing him to slide the fabric down your legs, the material whispering against your skin.

He paused for a moment, his gaze darkening as he took in the sight of your underwear, stained with crimson. But instead of pulling away, his expression grew more heated, and you felt a thrill of desire coil low in your belly. He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he began to press soft kisses along your inner thigh, his hands sliding up to cup you with gentle reverence. "You’re so brave," he murmured, his voice a sweet balm to your nerves. "So strong."

His lips hovered just above the stain, and with a soft, sensual kiss, he pressed his mouth against the fabric, his tongue swirling around the cloth in a gesture that made you gasp, your hips jerking upwards involuntarily. Taking this as an invitation, Yeosang moved higher, trailing kisses along your thighs, slowly working his way toward your most sensitive areas. When he reached your clit, he circled it with his thumb, watching your face intently as you squirmed beneath his touch.

"Does this feel good?" he asked, his voice rich with desire.

You could only nod in response, your breaths coming in short, shallow pants as the pain in your abdomen receded, replaced by a different, more intoxicating ache. Yeosang’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, his touch cool against your heated flesh. He teased you, sliding his fingers in and out in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you clutching at the bedsheets, your body arching into his touch.

"Yeosang," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He responded by sucking on your neck, leaving a trail of dark, possessive marks that you knew would linger for days.

As your orgasm built, he added another finger, his touch becoming more demanding, rougher in a way that only heightened your pleasure. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the pressure in your belly growing, twisting into a knot of pure ecstasy. He kissed you again, hard and deep, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hand. With a cry that was a mixture of pleasure and pain, you shattered in his arms, your body convulsing as your orgasm tore through you.

The tension in your muscles finally broke, leaving you trembling and breathless as the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing. Yeosang pulled back slightly, his fingers still buried inside you, his eyes watching you intently. "Is the pain still there?" he asked, his voice cutting through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind.

You nodded slowly, your body still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. "It’s a little better, but it still hurts," you admitted, your voice worn out from the intensity of the moment.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Yeosang’s lips as he curled his fingers inside you, making you groan with satisfaction. "Mhm, in that case, we might need another round," he teased, his voice low and sultry as he began to move his hand again.

Your abdomen, which had been tight with pain, began to loosen under his ministrations, the cramps giving way to a different kind of tension. Yeosang’s eyes remained locked on yours, watching the way your body responded to his touch, seeing how close you were to the edge once more.

"Come on, let it out, baby," he urged, his voice both commanding and encouraging. The intensity of his touch, the way his fingers expertly curled and pressed against your sweet spot, sent you spiraling toward another climax. The tension within you snapped like a tightly wound coil, and you came with a cry, your body convulsing around his hand as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Yeosang watched with a look of deep satisfaction as you fell apart under his touch, his own breathing heavy as he maintained his focus on you. "Better?," he asked, his voice a husky whisper as he slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling achingly empty.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath, but the answer was clear in the way your body relaxed, the pain of your cramps nearly forgotten. He took this as his cue, stripping off his own clothes with deliberate precision, each movement revealing more of his toned, muscular body. He was a sight to behold, his skin glowing in the soft light of the room, every muscle defined and rippling as he moved.

As he positioned himself between your legs, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The anticipation built, your body humming with a renewed sense of desire. When he finally slid into you, filling you completely, you gasped at the sensation, your body stretching to accommodate him. The fullness of him inside you was overwhelming, pushing all thoughts of pain far from your mind.

Yeosang set a rhythm that was both slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and measured as if he were savoring every moment, every sensation. The earlier urgency was replaced by a languid intensity that only heightened the connection between you. He kissed along your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heated marks on your skin, his teeth grazing your flesh just enough to send shivers down your spine.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper, eliciting a deep groan from him as his hips snapped forward, meeting yours with each thrust. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you with a powerful rhythm that had you arching off the bed, your nails digging into his shoulders.

With every thrust, you felt yourself climbing higher, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within you until it was all-consuming. His words, low and breathless, were a constant stream of praises and sweet nothings whispered in your ear, each one sending you further over the edge. You were lost in the sensation, the world around you narrowing down to the feel of his body moving against yours, the sound of his voice, and the intense pleasure that radiated through you.

As you neared your climax, the tension within you became almost unbearable, your body tightening around him as the pressure built. Yeosang, sensing how close you were, increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he too approached his peak. "You’re so tight," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I’m going to come."

And with those words, he did, his body tensing as he released deep inside you, filling you with his warmth. The sensation triggered your own orgasm, and you cried out, your body shaking with the force of it as you clenched around him, milking him for every last drop. The two of you stayed locked together for a moment, breathing heavily as the intensity of the moment slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a deep sense of satisfaction.

Yeosang eventually pulled out, leaving you with a sense of loss, but before you could even begin to protest, he was moving between your legs again. This time, his mouth replaced his cock, and you cried out at the overwhelming sensation. Your body was still sensitive from the previous orgasms, and the feeling of his tongue teasing your swollen clit was almost too much to bear.

He licked and sucked with a focused intensity, his eyes never leaving yours, watching every reaction, every tremor that passed through you. Your body bucked against his mouth, your nails digging into the sheets as you tried to hold on to the last threads of your sanity. "Yeosang, oh my God," you breathed, your voice hoarse from crying out his name.

He chuckled against your clit, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. His hand gripped your thigh, holding you firmly in place as he continued his assault on your senses. The pleasure was overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, and before you knew it, you were coming again, this time even harder than before. Your body convulsed under him, your cries filling the room as you were pushed over the edge once more.

Yeosang didn’t stop until you were completely spent, your body trembling and sensitive, every nerve ending alive with the aftershocks of your release. When he finally slid back up your body, he kissed you deeply, sharing the taste of yourself with you. The kiss was slow, sensual, and filled with a level of intimacy that made your heart flutter.

You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, and instinctively, your hand reached down to stroke him, wanting to give him the same pleasure he had given you. But he stopped you, placing his hand over yours with a gentle but firm pressure. "Let me," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his as he positioned himself at your entrance once more. This time, when he entered you, it was slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second, every sensation. He stared into your eyes as he filled you, his gaze unwavering, and you could see the depth of his desire mirrored in his dark eyes.

The rhythm he set was slow and deep, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through your already sensitive body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to connect with him on every possible level. He kissed you, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his thrusts.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and pleasure. The slow, deliberate pace allowed you to feel every inch of him, every movement, and it wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm building, this one slow and powerful, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.

Yeosang’s breathing grew more labored, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he neared his release. "You’re so tight," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I’m close."

His words pushed you over the edge, and with a final, deep thrust, he sent you spiraling into another orgasm, your body clenching around him, milking his cock as he came with a low, guttural groan. His seed spilled inside you, filling you with a warmth that spread through your entire body, leaving you both utterly spent.

Yeosang collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re amazing," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with genuine admiration. You felt your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up your neck at his words.

"Thank you," you murmured back, your voice shaky but filled with contentment. He kissed the top of your head, his hand stroking your hair gently as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

After a moment, Yeosang shifted, his hand trailing down your back as he suggested, "Let’s get you cleaned up." He helped you to the bathroom, his touch always gentle, always considerate.

The warm water of the shower washed away the evidence of your time together, but the memories remained vivid in your mind. As he held you under the spray, his hands moving tenderly over your body, you felt a connection with him that went beyond the physical. This wasn’t just a fantasy come to life—it was something deeper, something real.

You stepped out of the shower, feeling more alive than you had in months. Yeosang handed you a towel, his eyes lingering on your naked body. You dressed in the clean clothes he'd laid out for you, feeling like Cinderella after the ball. But this wasn't a fairy tale; it was real. And as he walked you to the door, the promise in his eyes was all too clear. This wouldn't be the last time you'd be in his room, feeling his touch, hearing his praises.

[nqueso-emergency]

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Somebody commented “cognitive dissonance” on one of your posts and that is such an apt description.

As background, I am a new watcher of the show (just finished watching season 7 days ago). I literally pressed “follow” to the Bucktommy and Buddie tags within a seconds because I wanted to stay “open” and fresh as a daisy thinking it was going to be a fun time reblogging gifs and reading theories & stories. Then I started seeing things and witnessing behavior that is making my opinion become as hard as cement because I have been bombarded by toxicity from the Buddie side.

“The Tevan people caused this! They harassed the cast! Everything was fine until they arrived!” (Summation) —-> So they are accusing fans of causing issues because they are literally supporting a CANON COUPLE? For bombarding love down on a couple the show runners would like see support for? Make it make sense. Bucktommy has been around for months but all the other issues have been there for YEARS.

What I have seen on various social medias in the short months:

Bucktommy positivity week

A call out to love bomb the comments sections on IG posts to stifle negativity

Lou being called ugly so many times it would be impossible to count

“Bucktommy bones”

Wishing death on Tommy

Freak out over a “Daddy” joke - FYI, if that got your hackles risen, don’t come to San Francisco or you would not survive

Tommy being called a predator

Bucktommy & Lou fans being harassed on twitter for posting anything when all I wanted to see was 911 fun things

The things I saw with my own eyes made my stomach burn and my heart hurt. Of course I drifted to the Bucktommy side and stayed there. Because you know what I see on a regular basis, a bunch of people in love with love. And people who see themselves as Queer person actually being portrayed on TV and are trying to just enjoy it.

My 2 cents 😊

Welcome to the fandom! I hate you had to experience all that shit. Especially as a new person to 9-1-1.

I really like hearing new people's perspectives because it's telling just how fucking toxic the bestie boos are.

My entrance into the actual fandom was nothing but hateful. I had lurked for years and after finishing season 7 I thought I'd interact on reddit because... it's reddit lol who's going to be crazy THERE.

Spoiler alert. A vast majority.

That's why my blog exists because these buddie fans have gotten away with way too much and someone should air it out.

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Once again, Xavier stands before you.

“Hi,” you greet, smiling awkwardly. “It’s nice to see you again. How are you doing?”

You’re not really sure why you keep bothering with the pleasantries, because it’ll probably end the same way every time. With him tilting his head at you and furrowing his brows in confusion.

You have to remember that for him, this is purely business. Maybe even less than that, actually.

He’s here to sate his appetite, and you are simply a means to an end.

“I’m fine,” Xavier replies, still frowning and no doubt wondering why you keep trying to make small talk with him. He then gestures towards one of the chairs. “Are you ready to get started?”

You nod and quickly sit down. Even though you came back here of your own volition, now that he’s about to drink your blood again, you can feel how fast your heart is beating in anticipation of the pain.

There’s no point in being scared. I need the money. I did it once, so I’m sure I can do it again.

“Whenever you want,” you tell him, white-knuckling the armrest of your chair. “I’m ready.”

Xavier takes a moment to settle beside you. He seems to be waiting just in case you refuse, and while you appreciate that he won’t do anything without your consent, the longer he takes to get started, the more nerve-wracking this whole thing is.

Finally, he bridges the distance, uses an arm to gently hold you in place, and presses his lips against your neck.

Just like last time, it fucking hurts. You can’t even pretend otherwise. There’s a reason why this program isn’t more sought-after. Not only do most humans live in fear of vampires, but the vast majority of people also aren’t desperate enough to sell their blood just to make ends meet. It’s a scary, painful experience, and it comes at a cost to your health, too.

This program was made deliberately for people like you—the hopeless and rundown.

You almost wonder what the other people who’ve signed up are like, but you decide it’s probably better not to meet them. Nothing good could possibly come of so many sad, pitiful souls gathering together in one place.

Anyways, what were you saying again? Oh, right.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

You tremble in place, doing your utmost not to grit your teeth and tense your muscles too much. The pain is one thing, but the sensation of having your blood drained—feeling it be directly siphoned from your body—is what’s truly horrifying. It feels wholly unnatural, and you’ll probably never be able to get used to it.

Still, you put on a brave face. You chose this, and right now, it’s the only option you have.

But apparently, you're not doing a very good job of being convincing.

Xavier pulls away and frowns. “You look like you’re suffering,” he remarks. There’s some blood on his lips, and you swallow at the sight, trying not to let it unnerve you.

“I’m fine,” you reassure. “This is no big deal.”

The last thing you want to do is scare him off. You need him to keep coming back. To you, the money you get from this is every bit as vital as the blood flowing through your veins.

Without it, you won’t survive.

Xavier narrows his eyes, and you fear that he’s starting to become rather annoyed with you. Perhaps he’d prefer someone else. Someone who isn’t such a baby and knows how to suffer through the pain without letting it show.

But instead of berating you, he does the exact opposite.

He apologizes.

“Sorry,” he sighs. “It’s been a long time since I drank someone’s blood like this. Up until I was admitted entry to the city, I lived off the government-issued blood packs, so I didn’t have to bite anyone. I suppose I should learn how to be a bit gentler.”

Uh... what?

You weren’t expecting this. You weren’t expecting this at all. Granted, he was very vocal about not wanting to force you into anything, but he never really struck you as the compassionate type. His expression is usually so stern, almost as frigid as his ice-cold hands.

But right now, he actually looks a bit sheepish.

You’re not sure if it’s the tenderness of his gaze, or the fact that someone’s actually treating you with empathy for a change, but either way, you find yourself blushing.

“I-It’s alright,” you say, glancing off to the side. Looking into those clear blue eyes of his is proving to be far too difficult a task right now. “I mean... it does hurt a bit, but I expected as much coming into this. I think I just need some more time to get used to it.”

“No. I’m sure it can’t be pleasant, so it’s up to me to do it in a way that isn’t quite so unbearable.” He lightly taps you on the hand, beckoning you to look at him again. “I’d like to try one more time,” he says. “With your permission, of course.”

Fuck. Here you are, selling your blood—which is quite possibly the least romantic thing in the world—but all of a sudden, you’ve got butterflies in your stomach.

It’s his fault for being so damn handsome. Or maybe you’re just not thinking clearly from all the blood loss.

Yeah. That must be it.

“Go ahead,” you reassure, adjusting your position and exposing your neck again. You take a deep breath, trying to relax, and you remind yourself that no matter how much it hurts, eventually, it will end.

Xavier’s fangs pierce your skin again, but even though you wince, you feel as though it’s slightly different from earlier. The way he’s drinking your blood is slower, more deliberate. It still hurts, no question about it, but you can tell that he’s now being conscious of how he does it.

Somehow, just the fact that he’s making an effort to hurt you less helps you cope a lot better than before.

“Huh? A different vampire has personally requested me?”

You blink, holding your phone against your ear. Just moments ago, someone from Plasma Inc. called to inform you that you’ve got another client. The news comes as a surprise, especially since you’re pretty sure Xavier is the only vampire you’ve ever met.

“Um... you guys don’t happen to show the clients files of the people who’ve signed up for the program and rank their blood in terms of tastiness, right?”

It’s a stupid question, if the sigh the employee lets out is anything to go off. You felt like asking it anyways, though.

“Of course not,” they reply. “This is actually a very peculiar case. We normally match clients and donors randomly, but this particular client apparently caught a glimpse of you in the building. Certain vampires are more perceptive than others and can sense when someone has appetizing blood. He was adamant about meeting with you, but naturally, the choice is yours. Rest assured that we will never disclose any of your personal information to him, so you’re welcome to refuse.”

As if you would ever refuse an opportunity to earn more money. These people are seriously underestimating just how desperate you are.

“I’ll meet with him,” you agree. “Just let me know when I should stop by.”

This is a good thing, right? Assuming he likes you—which, it sounds like he already does—you’ll be able to meet with two clients regularly instead of one.

Paying off your debt is finally starting to feel like more than just a dream.

Not much time has passed since you last saw Xavier, but once again, you find yourself walking down the pristine, glistening white hallways of Plasma Inc.

“Before you go meet with your new client,” the doctor begins, “I feel the need to mention that there are limits to how frequently you can come in. We can’t in good faith let you come back too often and give away your blood, otherwise it comes at a detriment to your health, and we are liable for it. So, please understand that we will monitor how often you come in and impose restrictions. We won’t allow you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

Damn. Well, that does make sense, and you suppose it’s a good thing, ethically speaking.

But financially speaking—for you, at least—it isn’t exactly ideal.

Still, you nod in agreement. “I understand. I won’t do anything to get you guys in trouble.”

The doctor smiles and ushers you along. Well, it’s fine. Even if you don’t do this all the time, they pay you quite generously, most likely to incentivize people into signing up in the first place. And now you have two clients instead of one, which means that you’re bound to get paid more often anyways.

Besides, this isn’t a permanent solution. It’s only to help keep you afloat until you pay off your debt to Johnny.

Once this nightmare is over, you’ll finally know what it’s like to live a normal life.

“Go right ahead,” the doctor gestures, and since you’re starting to get used to this whole process by now, you step inside the room without any hesitation.

Then, you lock eyes with your new client.

He’s tall. Really, really tall, as if being a vampire wasn’t already intimidating enough. His eyes are even more piercing than Xavier’s pale blue ones. They glisten like shards of topaz, bright and beguiling. You haven’t yet realized that your lips are parted open in awe, and all of this feels suspiciously like déjà vu. Like when you first laid eyes on Xavier.

It turns out that vampires really are ridiculously attractive.

“Yay, you’re finally here!” he exclaims. He runs up to you, and without warning, pulls you into his arms.

Naturally, you flinch at the sudden contact, and even though he’s going to be biting your neck later, you’re pretty sure that this isn’t exactly appropriate.

“U-Um,” you stammer. You try to push him away, but he’s a million times stronger than you, so you may as well be trying to move a wall.

He squeezes you and lets out a pleased sigh. “I knew it. You really do smell amazing. I can only imagine how sweet your blood will taste.”

Oh, boy. He’s sniffing you.

This already doesn’t bode well.

Mercifully, he pulls away quickly enough, stopping to flash you a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m Felix,” he introduces. “Man, you’re even prettier in person too! This day just keeps getting better. I really struck gold here.”

You can’t tell if he’s a big flirt, or a creep, or if he’s just really excited to drink your blood.

Regardless, you don’t make any motion to leave.

No way in hell are you leaving without your money.

“I’m [Name],” you say, nodding your head a bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Felix. I heard that you requested me specifically, so... hopefully I won’t let you down.”

His grin gets even wider. “There’s no way you will. I’m confident about this. I don’t think I’ve ever met a human who smells as good as you do.”

“Um... thanks.”

You’re not really sure what else to say. He’s a lot different from Xavier, though, that much is for sure. He’s infinitely more expressive and doesn’t seem too concerned with keeping things professional.

Regardless, he’s a client, and unless you give him what he wants, you’re not going to get paid.

“Should we start now?” you ask, already sitting down.

Felix nods eagerly. He’s practically vibrating, incapable of containing his excitement. You suppose it’s a bit endearing. It seems like he’s really been looking forward to this, and money aside, it’s nice to be able to make someone happy.

You adjust the top of your shirt to better expose your neck, and you swear that Felix gulps at the sight.

“Whenever you’re ready, just—”

The rest of the words don’t make it out in time. He grabs you by the shoulders, forcefully, then bites into your neck without even bothering to ease you through it.

A sharp cry escapes your lips, and you whimper, doing everything you can not to scream again.

This is bad. Unlike Xavier, he’s making no attempt to be gentle. He’s slurping from your neck greedily, and even though he’s already pierced your skin, his fangs dig deeper, in a relentless pursuit of everything you have to offer.

Tears blur your vision. Holy fuck, it hurts. You never imagined that it could hurt this much. It was already bad enough before. Will you... even be able to handle this?

You moan softly, and even though you’re doing your best to hold it together, a few tears end up spilling down your cheeks. You can feel how damp your skin is. Not just your face, but also the tender spot on your neck that Felix keeps burying his fangs into.

The pain makes you pass out for a few moments, but it’s better this way, because when you come to, Felix has finally stopped.

His lips and chin are completely stained with your blood, and he makes no attempt to wipe it off either, unlike Xavier.

To make matters even worse, he actually has the nerve to smile.

“Amazing,” he mumbles. He doesn’t seem awfully concerned with the fact that you’re only semi-conscious right now, and instead presses his body closer to yours. “[Name], you really are amazing. I’ve never had such delicious blood before. Most humans taste disgusting to me, and it’s a pain just finding something I can stomach. I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that I’ve finally met someone like you.”

Sure, it sounds like a crappy situation, but you’re having a hard time sympathizing with him after he basically just mauled your neck.

You wince and press a hand against the bite mark, and when you pull your fingers away, you’re horrified to find that they’re completely coated in blood.

Sh-Shit...

Felix leans into your line of sight, still grinning widely. “Hey. I have an offer for you. I’m sure they must have told you that there are restrictions to how often you can sell your blood, but if you’re here, it’s because you need the money, right? So, how about we also meet up outside of our scheduled appointments? That way, I can drink your blood as often as I want, and you can make more money. And by that, I mean that I’ll pay you double what you’re getting here. Hm? How does that sound?”

Double?

As in, two times as much?

You blink repeatedly, suddenly completely lucid. The pain is still there, clear as day, but what you’ve just heard has imbued you with a new sense of bravery.

Felix clearly doesn’t know the meaning of holding back. You doubt he cares about hurting you, which means it’ll be painful as all hell, every single time. Honestly, if you really wanted to, you could drop him as a client altogether. He seems like the type that’s difficult to keep in line, especially when there’s something he wants.

But it’s obvious that he really, really likes your blood, and apparently, he’s willing to pay a steep price for it.

With that kind of money, you’ll be able to pay Johnny back even faster. You’ll be able to treat yourself to a nice meal every now and then, to put your feet down from time to time and get a proper night’s sleep.

Forget just surviving, you want to know what it’s like to actually live.

“This is strictly between the two of us,” Felix continues. “It has to be done in private, without anyone finding out. The laws on this stuff are pretty stingy, and I’m sure neither of us wants to get in trouble. But I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Just a few moments ago, when you saw the bloody mess he made of your neck, you were actually considering never seeing him again. The pain was simply too much. You’ve suffered a lot, but even you have your limits.

Alas, in the face of money, you are nothing but a pathetic, subservient fool.

“Okay,” you mumble weakly. “Let’s do it.”

It’s probably a big mistake.

But you’re too desperate to care.

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[sophieinwonderland]

hey im endo neutral before you go off on one, but just came in here to say triggering people's psychosis is cringe and fail, so is triggering abandonment/attachment issues, so is going against a group of highly traumatised indivoduals (cause lets face it thats exactly what you did, regardless of whether they accept you or not or whether you think theyre "bigoted" or not) and ALSO you really do not give pro endos a good look and maybe you should like reevaluate what you post or think for more than like three seconds before hitting post (literally anyone could have seen how that post would be incredibly triggering). i look through your blog every once in a while to look at all the papers you post and all your arguments cause i like having a nuanced view and i understand it feels shitty for people to not believe in an integral part of you - i have the same thing when it comes to my religion but i dont fucking go around telling non believers im gonna take everything they love away from them because im not an asshole? have a day <3

I'm just curious... is there a group actively identifying as anti-[your religion]?

Do you have to regularly deal with non-believers coming into your religious spaces just to tell you that your religion isn't real and that you're faking your religious experiences?

How many times have you been told to kill yourself because of your religion?

When was the last time you saw someone say cyberbullying needed to be brought back specifically to bully people with your religion?

When you introduce people to your religion, are the non-believers accusing you of "grooming" them?

Do you want to know something? I don't actually care if people believe in me or not. That vast majority of people don't know that tulpas exist because it's still pretty niche.

That's fine. They can be taught later.

Other people people are aware of bits and pieces but don't get involved and don't believe either. They have their beliefs and keep those to themselves. I can respect that.

These people aren't anti-endos.

But then you have a hate group who have made it part of their identity to spread constant hate and disinformation about us. These are not simply "non-believers." This a group that is united solely by their hatred of us.

And this is probably more controversial in the pro-endo community, but I don’t even mind the "endogenics are all traumagenics in denial" people, in theory. As long as they're respectful and aren't actively spreading hate or standing with those who do.

I say in theory though because practically every one I've actually encountered is still gatekeeping space and resources. And that somehow makes it even worse to me because while disbelieving in endogenic plurality is ignorant, even if willfully ignorant, believing we're confused trauma survivors in denial and still treating us like shit and gatekeeping terms means they're just knowingly hurting other trauma survivors.

Don't you dare try to frame this as me simply going after people for not believing me.

[fuck-customers]

hey gang! me again (from /post/741038774641983488, bitching about the two coworkers and the filthy deli slicer), and i guess we couldn’t go three days/two shifts without more bullshit from J1! as i write this it’s currently the morning after the shift described below. thankfully, i have the day off today, due to a prior appointment, so i might be able to wind down again before going in again tomorrow afternoon.

so before Chef C left on the hell shift prior, he asked me to be there at noon, when the first folks are showing up for their prep. good thing, too, because shortly after i arrive, before i even clock in, the head line cook (M) that showed up the same time i did informs me that he’s just gotten a text from C saying that both the sous chef S and the pantry cook J1 have called out for the day, leaving me as (currently) the only person available with any experience on pantry.

before i switched mostly to dish, this was fine, because i could rest assured that the old pantry lead (name irrelevant; no longer works there) would have as much as possible done and prepped for the next shift, even with the one day off we had between. the only time she wouldn’t is if the store was going to be closed for 3-4+ days straight and we needed to be concerned about spoilage. thus i would be left with minimal prep actually needed to be done and could just focus on the essentials.

considering this prior prep cook is the one who trained me and J1, it’d be safe to assume that she’d follow the same practices, right? well, clearly, that’s giving her too much credit, because again, i never got trained to any degree on how to make the vast majority of what gets “cooked” for pantry, and apparently she’s incapable of planning ahead even if for no other reason than to simply make her own job easier.

to make matters worse, we had just gotten a shipment, so the walk-in was packed full without any room to get around; i’d have put it away myself, but i don’t know where the vast majority of the shit goes, and i don’t want to fuck up the already tenuous inventory log situation that C constantly grouses about. i’m resultantly unable to get counts for anything we already have, so for the time being i focus on what i am able to easily access to get done, which is mostly plating desserts.

after a couple hours, a temp (E) comes in to help. there is a language barrier and she has never worked pantry before, only line, so i have to train her (through translation apps and my own rudimentary kitchen spanish) while also trying to figure out what the hell i’m doing myself. chef doesn’t get around to teaching me how to make two of the items we need until about half an hour before service starts, meaning i once again did not get a break and had to rush through making them myself, while i also try to get E set up with making sure everything she could put together was ready for service.

as you can probably imagine, this doesn’t go particularly well! E does great with the actual prep stuff, with dressing the cold cured meat dish and this that and the other, but as soon as we get to service it becomes an absolute shitshow. apparently nobody taught E on line that you need to send dishes out in the order the tickets come in, so we’re 15 tickets deep with more printing, and she’s ignoring things i specifically showed her how to make while we were slow to, instead, pull from the end of the queue to make salads that i keep having to drop what i’m doing to coach her on how to make correctly when they have a special request applied.

ultimately this results in me getting scolded by the GM/service lead to send tickets out in order, to which i just respond that “i’m trying,” and M comes to my defense when i can’t hear it to point out that i really wasn’t set up for success today, and folks kind of back off. thankfully we only end up with one extra dish (to my knowledge? something was said about extra carrot cakes but they were never brought back) and it’s just like. a half salad that E didn’t prep right so we couldn’t send it out.

insult to injury is that there were actually others present who had worked pantry before. one of the expo cooks (D) actually comes back to help J1 all the time, but because of S being absent he had to focus on expo—and he ended up leaving before dinner service without raising a finger or even pausing to ask to make sure i was going to be okay with just me and the temp. D’s got a problem habit of leaving without doing everything that needs done, anyway, which ended up resulting in J2 getting forced into overtime to pick up his and J1’s slack on that front, which is why he wasn’t there for this shift. probably ultimately for the better but i really would have appreciated the extra pair of hands.

due to the string of buffoonery that resulted in us missing no less than 3 kitchen staff and damn near everyone who knew how to do anything of substance on pantry, i wasn’t really given an opportunity to call for help. thankfully M had my back and nobody seems to have any hard feelings now that it was made clear to them that i wasn’t given room to do anything but struggle, and the GM and service staff took it pretty well when i apologized for how much of a shitshow pantry became, but i really should not have been left drowning like that in the first place.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[acourtofthought]

I think the moment WE all found out the whoever runs Elain week was banning ships we knew the week would not really be about Elain.

And it is now an even bigger shit show watching how they are ignoring the problematic and racially insensitive comments the artist made. The art ITSELF was fine, but what she said and how she's doubled down is NOT, and then for the mods to support her and allow other elriels do encourage those comments should honestly be called out. I know they don't care, they are already refusing accountability and trying to make it about Gwynriel, when Gwynriel is not even a part of this fucking shit show. The truly can't help themselves in finding ways to turn this on Gwyn stans.

Anyways, here is what I think, El/riels are paranoid that the fandom will perceive their ship as the minority and that is why they make everything about Elriel, they can't even celebrate Elain as ELAIN without some passive aggressive, OUT OF CONTEXT cheesy caption that reads like a school girl writing in her diary for the first time about a crush on a boy who only thinks you are hot but could care less about your personality, and because you have no standards for yourself or too naive, find that attraction is all it takes to win you over. Even if the boy never bothered to ask you once, how your day was, or bothered to get to know you, because like who cares, he is a cute boy right?

They are shallow and their lack of depth and understanding to how SJM actually wishes for her couples to be equals, and fully themselves is their downfall. But jokes on them, it does not matter how much they push Elriel, Sarah does not give a fuck.

We don't have just one book of contextually evidence of the type of romance Sarah prefers, not even two, three of even 10, we have 16 books of fated mates as endgame, because that IS THE TROPE. Have they ever read any other books? You read enough romance books, it is easy to pick up on basic set up like this:

Character A is not wholly herself around Character B. Boy wants to only protect fragile FMC, they hold back who they truly are, especially their ugly side, maybe they trauma bonded when FMC was too scared and fearful of her destiny, but eventually when the FMC starts to embrace her fate, the relationship is doomed because the boy can't handle who she is becoming.... like where have I read that before? oh in several other popular series, from Fourth Wing, Shatter Me, The Mortal Instruments, like babes, the writing is on the wall, it's the most basic set up there is, Tamlin and Chaol also fit the bill of this archetype doomed romance, and they refuse to see it.

I bet good money if they read other books they would be team jacob, team adam, team stefan, team simon, team dain...I can go on and on. I bet they were team tamlin and chaol before the next books if they were even around then. They lack depth and understanding of the most basic romance types in a vast majority of books.

Az wanting to keep Elain away from danger is not romantic. It is sniffling her. Just like Dain did not want Voilet to train. Just like Tamlin did not want Feyre to train. Just like Adam wanted to keep Juliette from fighting. Stefan refusing to accept Elena for who she was becoming, wanting her to be the girl he first met, to Simon wishing things would have been what they once were, only to realize Claire never would be and learning their love was never meant to be romantic.

Like this is not hard.

I'll see your thoughts and raise you one.

I think even before the banning of ships we knew this wasn't actually going to be a true Elain week based on the history of Elain Weeks. Most character weeks reserve a day for relationship prompts but instead, this week has always been E/riel Week 2.0 run by E/riels who limit the amount of other content that's featured.

And I agree, it is sad to see that the sum total of many of these posts are simply fanart of e/riel with a quote from the book (i.e., how handsome they would be together) and that's the entire thing. Because Feyre thinking what she did back in book 2 (though she clearly was encouraging Elain to get to know Lucien in the novella) somehow is important to the ELAIN Home Prompt. Because Feyre's words should somehow dictate where Elain will be most at home, not Elain herself when the text in SF (the most recent book) clearly shows that despite Elain's attempts at doing her best to fit in, she really doesn't.

I was talking to Luna earlier and we had discussed how Sarah set up Nesta's story like this:

Nesta was in the NC but she refused to try to acclimate to the NC. She hid herself away, would not interact with the IC, would not engage with Velaris outside of the bars and taverns she visited, did not want to participate in the NCs holidays such as Solstice (and the exchanging of gifts). She was in the NC but kept herself removed from what made it the NC. It wasn't until her book that she began to try fitting in with the things around her she found her home.

In comparison Elain is in the NC and she's trying to fit in. She's trying to interact with Feyre's found family, trying to show interest in an available NC male within Feyre's circle, participating in the holidays and traditions of the NC, trying to make friends and find a purpose there. But despite Elain doing everything she possibly can to fit in, the text supports that something still isn't working. Cruelty still bothers her, the others still don't rely on her for anything, nobody is asking her about her trauma, nobody is asking her to train her powers, she's constantly sitting by the sunniest windows and losing her color in the winter, she barely laughed in SF. Elain is doing her best but no matter how much she gives, it's not going to be enough because she's NOT where she belongs. Versus Nesta, who finally gave in and began trying and realized she was where she belonged all this time.

But as you said, they are so fixated on such surface level things (they wanted to kiss!! Feyre said they'd be handsome together!) that they forget about the deeper, more meaningful aspects of Sarah's endgame pairings. And you're right, it will not matter how many fanarts they make, how loud they are within the fandom, it's not going to change what Sarah writes. Sarah has spoken time and again about what a toxic relationship looks like to her (Tamlin / Feyre), what a true connection for her looks like since she feels she has that with Josh, and she set E/riel up to look exactly like the Feyre / Tamlin romance did. Ignoring what kind of author she is and what relationships she prefers isn't going to help them. I think I'd have more respect if they said, "yes, I see where Az's behavior with Elain is problematic but I believe Sarah will have him made amends". But instead, they insist Az is so romantic towards Elain, that they share in true love. ?!$!$%#% WHERE????? You said it above but he does not have faith in her, he does not give her credit for anything she did in the war, he was not there for her during any of her arguments with Nesta in the last year. That is not love, not in any of the books you mentioned above and definitely not in a Sarah J Maas book. It's even more noticeable because of how she wrote Az reacting to Gwyn through the book, thinking on how far she's come, showing pride and admiration for her, believing in her. He isn't in love with Gwyn yet but those traits are a much more beautiful and solid foundation to build a real relationship on than talking about seeds, appearances and wanting to eat her out after avoiding her for a year.

Side note, I know you were saying Az is "stifling" her but the typo reads Az is sniffling her and I can't stop smiling because it's so funny when you read it that way.

[jess-moloney]

WHAT

THE

ACTUAL

FUCK

What the fuck is wrong with us Jamie fans? I only follow this account because I also am a big Jamie fan and I want what's best for him but like seriously, what kind of a sadist "fan" wrote such stuff about their admired celebrity? For example, if you're on social media to support jess, don't make your account under the name "JamieBowerTeraphy" and name it "JessMoloneyTeraphy" because no kind of a sadist fan would do such stuff. We might be imagining having sex with him, but that's in our imagination, and that's no one's concern. They have no fucking right to talk crap about Jamie like that. I hope whomever owns that account has just got their account hacked, and it's not them who's writing because otherwise, it means we have a serious problem

I absolutely cannot stand the argument that people only hate Jess because they want to fuck Jamie or because they are jealous or because of some other superficial or hypersexual reason.

Of course I think Jamie is attractive but I also think he's a talented actor, musician, writer, artist, and everything else. I don't think of him purely in terms of if I can have sex with him or not. I don't even want that. It's definitely not my goal or dream or most secret desire.

The vast majority of the people who do not like Jess aren't hating her just because she's with Jamie. There's an entire reason to dislike her. It's her behaviour. It's how she treats him. It's how she treats his fans. It's how she lies, manipulates, and cons people. It's how narcissistic she is. How everything has to be about her all the time and how she used Jamie to get the meager amount of fame that she got because she'd never have the talent to do it on her own.

The people who follow Jamie just to objectify him and treat him as nothing more than a walking sex fantasy are absolutely disgusting. He's a human being. He has feelings. He's not your lust object or play thing for you to do with as you wish. It's absolutely disgusting the level of dehumanizing shit these people will not only post about him but tag directly to him on Twitter or Instagram (or leave in his comments) as if he's no better than his cock. I really wish that people would act normally.

Fantasies are fine, healthy even, but there's a difference between you writing your fan fiction and keeping it within the fandom and making these memes and edits and everything else that overtly sexualizes him in an attempt to get his attention somehow. Can people just not do that? Even worse, tonnes of people doing this stan Jess at the same time. Which I can't even begin to understand. So they stan this woman and think Jamie and her should be together forever but at the same time they tweet and post these extremely sexual things to him on social media? It's as if they don't believe this man has any purpose beyond getting them off.

[whywoulditho]

i was doing a rewatch of nickelodeon's victorious and there's about twenty thousand things wrong with that show but one thing that really struck me was the character of jade and how she's the shallowest representation of an 'alt girl'. and this is definitely an issue that mainstream media is still suffering from but it's like at that time they had absolutely no idea how to write a goth girl. i can assure you it is so much worse than you remember.

i don't think they were going for a specific subculture when they picked out her outfits, they kind of just threw a bunch of styles together to create 'some sort of an alt girl'. her outfits looked like a softer/more casual version of trad goth, i think. since she would be wearing them to school or in her daily life i think the outfits were fine. but they failed with her personality SO BAD.

because tell me why this "goth girl" was a loud transphobe and a misogynist. this girl insulted other people's looks, their weight, their outfits ALL THE TIME. she made fun of "manly looking girls" and i know robbie possibly being a trans boy was a laughing stock for the whole show but it was still so weird seeing jade, with her red doc martens and fishnet stockings and a hairdye that would send conservatives into the grave even today, make jokes about it.

i get that this show is from 2013 and on nickelodeon so they couldn't be *gasp* queer allies BUT even for that time, her being misogynistic is fucking ridiculous... she would call girls ugly back and forth, she would make everyone feel bad about everything about themselves for fun. that wasn't something tori or cat or even trina would do, only jade because she was "an angry person". not to mention they painted her to be this dangerous, violent person that would threaten to harm people if they so much as looked at her wrong.

and the thing is, gothics are angry people. but their anger is towards inequality, patriarchy, fast fashion/consumerism, corrupt governments. hollywood looks at these kind of subcultures in the most surface level way possible, they focus on the part that they're angry people, and never stop to ask what they're angry about.

and this is NOT just lazy writing. because if you want to depoliticize the youth you start by making up rumors about the politicized youth. you push this literal propaganda in mainstream media until the vast majority of your country is convinced that hippies are junkies, punks are violent, goths are scary. alt people are weird and angry and dangerous. you make jokes about it, you use their names like an insult, and if you do it well and for long enough, no one will take them seriously anymore. no one will stop to ask alt people what they believe in and what they stand against. they'll just see them as soft kids looking for attention.

so we end up with characters like jade west, who could only have two effects on society, both of them in favor of a corrupt government looking to depoliticize people. 1) she would make goth/alt people seem too angry and violent so parents would be cautious of them and never take them seriously, 2) she would take all the political and philosophical aspects out of this subculture so the next generation of girls would just buy goth clothes from hot topic and never understand what the subculture actually stands for.

[sunsoakedhighhopes]

In this case, Steve is actually doing something for himself for once, not as a part of the US military, and not exactly as Captain America either, though obviously Captain America is going to have a role to play.

Steve stops by an island prison, which is, I guess, under territory of France, now controlled by the Nazis, to check in on a friend, who is a political prisoner after France's defeat by Germany.

As usual, Steve just does not give any fucks. He never sugarcoats his feelings about the Nazis, he never plays political, even if it might be to his benefit to do so. Obviously antagonizing the warden of the prison where his friend it being kept isn't the most political tactic, but i guess it's true that Steve knows that he doesn't have to play nice in this situation, because he is Captain America, and he knows that he can take this whole prison down, if he needs/wants to. (One thing Comic Steve is not lacking, which is, I think different from his portrayal in the MCU, is confidence. Of course, a lot of that is possibly down to the fact that the vast majority of Steve's early life and backstory wasn't established by Marvel until much much later -- after his original run had completed.)

One thing I've also noticed about these early issues is that we never really get any kind of internal monologue from Steve, which is something that's much more prevalent in modern comics.

So we don't actually have Steve's motivations. He tells the warden that he's just there to check up on his friend, and there's never anything shown -- no scenes between him and Bucky or anything else -- that would indicate that this wasn't his true intention when he arrived, but I really kinda like to imagine that he went to this place with the full intention of Captain America-ing it up, and rescuing his friend. So, like, Steve is not bothering to try to placate this guy in any way, because he fully knows that his friend isn't going to be there much longer.

So, they bring out Steve's friend and he's.... looking a little rough.

Steve is of course quite horrified. But after a pointed look from the warden, Tom insists that they haven't treated him badly, and in particular the warden has treated him very well -- he just, you know, likes being so thin that he can barely stand and you can count each and every rib.

Then Steve is quickly ushered back outside where he is shown to the hut where he will be staying, and I'm only including this panel because Steve is wearing a pith helmet, which is a hat that really shouldn't look good on anyone, and yet, here he is, looking handsome as hell.

Steve obviously didn't fall for any of this bullshit, and again, I love that Steve just apparently wears his uniform under his clothes at all times. Like, is he afraid to pack it in his suitcase? I guess it does help with the speedy magical girl transformation into Captain America, but like, he's literally on what appears to be a tropical island, wearing his uniform under a suit -- how is he not absolutely dying from the heat?? Also, does this mean that Bucky is always wearing his uniform as well? Does he wear it to school? And once again, where are Bucky's parents??

Okay, so this prison warden guy is really not the brightest, because he doesn't even wait for Steve and Bucky to leave the island before torturing Tom again. Like, what exactly was the thought process here? Did he think that Steve was going to be like, "Well, my obviously emaciated friend says he's just fine, so I guess everything's good. I'm just gonna hang out the beach for a bit and get a tan and then head home."

Unfortunately for Steve, this prison torture chamber is set up like a Bond villain's lair.

No, but like, literally. Bond villain setup here.

This is the second time that they've put Steve in a man vs beast type situation.

Interesting, because here we have, canonically, the wings on Steve's helmet are made of steel, and are sturdy enough to use as a weapon.

And unfortunately, yes, Steve does kill another animal here, but in Steve's defense, it seems like the only other option was getting eaten by sharks. And I just think this was probably one of those popular tropes in the forties to show a character was really strong and fearless. We can't judge these comics by today's standards. And again, it's not like he really had a choice.

He does leave the third shark alive -- again, proving that he only killed the first two because he didn't have a choice.

When Steve crawls back out of shark pit, he finds the warden looming over Bucky with a knife, about to stab him -- which if you've been paying attention, threatening Bucky in front of Steve is just about the fastest way to ensure your imminent defeat. Although unfortunately, Steve does not in fact feed the prison warden to the sharks. Come on, the set up was right there!

They then rescue Tom, who somehow hasn't figured out that his friend Steve is Captain America, despite Steve arriving on the island that same day with a small boy named Bucky -- and you know what, whatever, we'll go with it. Maybe Tom is being tongue-in-cheek here, maintaining Steve's secret.

Tom says he's going to Greece to continue fighting against the Nazis, and later, Steve and Bucky read a newspaper article about a new addition to the Greek forces, an American pilot who had become a terror for the Nazi forces.

[thought-42]

It gets harder every year

Star Wars, 2050 words, Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger Luke has acquired a Mandalorian and is maybe panicking a little. It's fine. He nows a guy. Set in a universe where Ezra wound up in the Chiss Ascendancy post-Rebels and eventually he and Luke became like. Space internet friends. Don't worry about it. *

Luke Skywalker, pinnacle of Jedi calm and patience, only does four laps around the school while he waits for his comm signal to work its way through seven layers of encryption and a long string of relay nodes stretching across lightyears, vast and unknowable, between his current location and his target.

“No,” Laezra says as soon as he picks up. His little hologram is blurry and half a second out of sync with the audio, but Luke can still see the way his hair is flattened on one side and standing straight up on the other, and he's holding the comm in such a way that his (probably bare) chest is out of frame. There is, perhaps, a timezone issue Luke should have taken into account.

“You're so rude,” Luke says. “This could be an emergency.”

“Is it?”

“The point is that it could be. And you, my only peer, my only fellow Force user, you who stand in brotherhood with me against a harsh and uncaring universe–”

“Your sister exists and is literally a princess”

“What value does the royal title hold within the forced diaspora, really? Also the last time I asked if she wanted to meditate she threatened to tell someone I don't pay taxes.”

“That's an actual criminal crime, for the record. What kind of example are you setting for your students?”

“I have two students,” Luke says. “One of whom I'm related to. Besides, didn't you meet your master in the middle of a criminal crime?”

“It's not a crime if it pisses off the Empire,” Laezra says automatically, then, “Luke, please. I am so tired. There was a whole... thing. I haven't slept in my own bed for three weeks. My student had to use her lightsaber in actual combat for the first time. I had to side with my commanding officer against my mentor, even though the asshole was absolutely in the right, and I'm feeling some kinda way about it. Sometimes preemptive action is good, actually, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Sorry,” says Luke. “Is she ok? Your student, I mean.” Laezra still refuses to tell Luke the name of his or his fellow Navigator Jedi's student, and wierd trust issues aside, it makes conversation grammatically difficult sometimes.

“Yeah. We're ok. We were both doing twelve hour shifts on the way home, though, because I guess ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ doesn’t mean ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ when the ship’s actual Sky Walker is made of germs and fever and barf. Then it becomes ‘jump-by-jump is so inefficient, this information is so critical, everybody’s so tired. Have you ever had the experience of getting nosebleed blood crusted in your beard? BecauseI don’t recommend it.”

Between Leia and Laezra, Luke knows enough classified information to sink two major governments. Or at least inconvenience them a lot. 

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke decides he's going to sit down on the grass,and only realises it’s still wet from the afternoon rainstorm once his pants are already soaked. “So. Listen. You know things.”

“Wild,” Laezra says flatly. “Is this how you write report cards at your school?”

Luke glares down at the little hologram. “You know things about Mandalorians,” he clarifies. He decides he's gonna stand back up, and while he's at it he may as well do a few more laps.

“I-- Luke. Luke you can't tell me I'm the only person you know who knows a Mandalorian. Who I am, just so we're super clear, still on pretty shaky footing with, given my whole... everything.”

Luke waves this off. He is very over Laezra having fucked off on actual Purrgils, never to return, less than a year before Luke discovered he was a space wizard and could have really desperately used some support in that from someone who wasn't a hundred years old and a friend of his father's. It's so fine. He definitely doesn't lie awake imagining being one half of a pair of Jedi, back when the Rebellion had felt huge and overwhelming and kind of terrifying. Some people blow up a massive space station/doomsday weapon full of living beings (twice) and hold their evil dad in their arms while he dies. Some people ride away in a burst of martyrdom on their bffs the legendary space whales. Some people live alone but for two little kids in the ruins of a temple that they call a school, desperately trying to rebuild an entire religious and cultural institution from barely legible texts and ghosts. Some people live in another galaxy and embark on exciting new projects for an alien government where they get to research brand new Force techniques and go on adventures and live in an apartment where they can just walk across the street and buy fresh pastries whenever they want to.

Jedi do not feel envy. Jedi do not feel resentment. Jedi are always well aware that the grass is perpetually greener.

“I have a Mandalorian now,” Luke says, instead of any of this.

“Like, you... have obtained one? Are you feeding them? They need so much exercise, I cannot emphasise this enough.”

Luke puts his comm on the ground so he can drop his face into his hands. “He gave me? His kid? But also I think he's the king of the Mandalorians, and he keeps stopping by for visits, and I don't want to mess up.”

“This is so much,” Laezra says. “This is so much. Luke Skywalker, are you crushing on the Mand’alor?”

“Calling you was a mistake,” Luke says.

“Calling me was the opposite of a mistake, oh my God. What House? What Clan? I ask like the answer will mean anything to me, but like..... it might.”

“His name's Din,” Luke says. “I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people that.”

“And have you and Din..... you know?”

“He doesn't take his helmet off,” Luke says, helplessly. “Except once, and I think that was... not ideal. For him.”

“But was it ideal for you– sorry, sorry. Ok. Was he an Academy kid?”

“I don't think so,” Luke says. “He barely knew anything about the war. He didn't know who I was. He has a lightsaber that he really doesn't want to have, though.”

“Wait. Wait. So he's like.... the real deal. You're having sexy parent/teacher interviews with the legit Mand’alor.”

“I'm not having sexy anything with anybody,” Luke says.

“That's so sad, my guy. But hey, keep on trucking. I bet you can seduce him with your farmboy charms.”

“His son eats frogs,” says Luke. “I caught him a whole bucket full to take with him last time Din came to take him on a trip.”

“You just. ...handed the Mand’alor a bucket of frogs and his kid? ‘Have a good time, gang!’ You’re my very favourite little guy, Luke.”

“I think most of them escaped inside his ship,” Luke admits. “Which, actually, let me tell you about his kriffing ship–”

“Why am I perpetually surrounded by pilots? Luke, look at me. Look me in the eye. I don't care about his ship. Tell me about his cute kid or his dick or the actual ass Darksaber. Do not tell me about his ship.”

“It's very bad, though. It’s a bad ship and he should feel bad about it, he lets his child ride around in it, and I know for a fact his fuel injectors were recalled–”

“So were you hoping I'd... know the Mando dating cheat codes, or something?” Laezra says loudly.

Luke frowns. “I want to get to know him as a person. I'm his son's teacher. It'd be inappropriate for me to ... do anything. I'm just hoping I can maybe be a bit more culturally sensitive.”

Luke's only ever seen one propper, full-colour picture of Laezra that isn't a blue light holocall; there’s a holo on General Syndulla’s desk of a grinning teenager, limbs gawky and eyes that reminded Luke of the feral tookas he was never allowed to take home during trips into town as a kid. Even so, it's easy for Luke to picture the other man sitting in the dark of his bedroom, shoving his hands back through his hair as he groans. Luke wonders if he's the kind of person who needs to have everything unpacked and in its place when he comes home from a mission, or if he's more the 'dump bag and clothes on floor, fall face first onto nearest flat surface' type. It's probably a weird thing to wonder, but it's the sort of thing Luke knows about all his other friends.

“Ok. Luke.” He drops his hands from his hair and leans in close to his comm, so the top half of his face is all Luke sees, weird and disproportionate as the camera tries to compensate. “I bet you've probably been reading a bunch of old Jedi books or scrolls or cave paintings about the danger of attachment. Maybe your ghosts have lectured you. But that's what they are. Ghosts and old writings. You're starting something new. And-- Kanan. My Master. He loved somebody very much, and she loved him back. And he was the best Jedi I can imagine.”

“You can just say it was General Syndulla,” says Luke, who has only ever seen one mention of attachments in the documents he’s recovered, but doesn’t want to devalue what Laezra is trying to tell him.

“Ok, yeah. They loved each other so much, and I never once saw it interfere with Kanan’s dedication to helping others. To making the galaxy a safer, kinder place. If anything I think she made him better. And vice-versa.”

“I just meant,” Luke says carefully, “that I wouldn't want to risk things not working out and Din not wanting to leave his son here anymore. There's nobody else who will train him. But I’ll keep the other stuff in mind.”

“I have so many things I definitely  don't actually want to say to Ahsoka,” Laezra mutters. “But oh boy am I thinking them.”

Luke presses his lips together. He doesn't know if Laezra knows who Vader was when he was a Jedi. Doesn't know if it'd mean anything to him even if he did know. “She's got some pretty compelling reasons for the choices she makes, he says. "I don’t agree with her, but… I mean. Anybody can become dangerous if attachment gets possessive, but you've gotta admit Force users are especially risky.”

“People just keep making bigger guns,” Laezra points out. “How are they any less dangerous?”

“A gun can't get inside your head and change how you feel. It can't make you do things you wouldn't normally do.”

“Ahahaha,” says Laezra, and his hands go back over his face as he leans away from the camera. “You don't need The Force for that one, either.”

Luke winces. “Anyway,” he says, because he knows most people don't actually want to talk about their feelings, even if that seems super counter-intuitive. Whatever. “How do I become friends with the Mand'alor?”

“You keep saying it and it doesn't get any less unhinged. I don't know. You're already taking care of his kid, and you value family. You're highly skilled in combat. There's really no secret trick to it, just... be a person.”

“I've tried that,” Luke says. “I'm so bad at being a person around him though.”

“Does he like art?” Laezra asks, with a sudden burst of gleeful intensity. “Luke does he like art, this is important. I can tell you so much about art. Do you want to know which chemical combinations are the best for neon colours and also timed explosions? Do you want to know about historical graffiti culture throughout the Outer Rim? Do you want to know how to use the remaining art from the various Mandalorian factions to construct a sociopolitical thesis on their people with a focus on military tactics?”

“You know what," says Luke, "I think I hear the kids calling me.”

“Coward,” Laezra says immediately

“Go back to bed; say hi to your student for me; may The Force be with you bye.”

Laezra is still swearing at him, laughing,when Luke clicks the channel closed.

Luke, with all the dignity befitting the last Jedi Master, opens his notebook and writes 'Ask if he likes art.'

[faeriekit]

Hey gang. So:

1) If I ask a yes or no question about something I’m posting, a. I don’t need two paragraphs about your reasoning as to why you have this opinion, especially if the update it’s about is already posted and isn’t going to change. A “yes, cool” or “nah, not really” will suffice. b. I don’t need four different responses about how much you dislike the direction I’ve taken, and neither do I need to see attempts to rope in other users to have you...actually change their mind? It’s perfectly fine to dislike my writing or one of my writing products. But make your own post about it, please, so I don’t get blasted with six different critiques simultaneously in my notes. This is a boundary I am about to enforce via blocking, because:

2) Writing fanfic is a personal hobby and mode of de-stressing of mine. I’m not a professional writer. I am using tumblr as a mode of publishing, so clearly this isn’t that deep. I have to keep it not-that-deep for personal reasons, because the literal instant that this becomes work, or worse, an actual stressor, my brain shuts down any creative interest and I go back into anhedonia mode. If anhedonia has never been on your symptoms sheet before...it sucks. It really does.

3) I work eleven hour days. I am in my final semester of grad school. I have homework to do nightly. The finals due this month will determine the course of my career. This fic has largely turned my eleven hour days to thirteen-to-fifteen hour days when I include meals. The turnaround on Blister Pack has been incredibly short, considering the daily update pattern. It’s okay to not like raspberry scones or whatever you want this metaphor to be, but if I offer you raspberry scones after spending my only free time baking them and your response is to tell me the mistakes I’ve made in the process, then. Well. I’m certainly not going to consider baking my fun hobby I do with friends anymore.

I’m not going to blame anyone for this. This is not anyone’s fault. Since BP has largely gotten ten times more popular than I ever imagined it would be, I’m ngl, I was largely expecting something to go wrong way earlier than this. This is about how I will proceed in the future and how I hope we can get along in the future. Feel free to read. Feel free to dislike. Feel free to-- idk, make your own post where you get vocal about where my writing goes and why you personally don’t like it. Sure. Just don’t make me see it and...what, expect me to uproot the story? Rewrite it to match your personal view of the media and of the fic? I don’t always know what people’s intention are when they comment this tbh; if I dislike a fic, I just stop reading. 

Anyway, the block button is on the table as far as options go, but I trust the vast majority of you and we clearly haven’t had problems about this previously. Blister Pack is finished in its word doc. I just have to trick my brain into thinking that posting the ending isn’t a threat to my internal wellbeing.

Thank you for reading the little I write, thank you for the well-intentioned comments, even if I couldn’t receive them in the manner you intended; and thank you for sharing your thoughts and interests when you have the energy. I often feel as though writing is very isolating, and though I often get too overwhelmed to respond, I have read every single individual comment that has been sent to me. Comments. Tags. Replies. Everything. You’re the glue that’s been holding my motivation together to finish this for once.

Once Blister Pack is posted, this will be the first fic I have finished since...since I wrote my first fic a decade ago. Fucking Hells. 🥂

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Hard Rock Essentials 2000 Hard Rock / Blues-Rock / Arena Rock / Hair Metal / Pop-Metal / Heavy Metal / Adult-Oriented Rock / Progressive Rock / Pop-Rock

God, classic rock really has to be the most over-entitled and over-represented type of music in America, man. I mean, can you think of any other non-contemporary stuff that has a radio station solely dedicated to it in virtually every nook and cranny of this country? It's pretty obvious why it's managed to own so much radio real estate over the years, though—because it's pure catnip for nostalgic white boomers—but if you zoom all the way out and think about all of the music that's come and gone since the 50s, there's really no justifiable reason for this stuff to get so much more airtime than any other type of music from the past. I mean, classic rock is fine for what it is, but it's definitely not leaps and bounds better than everything else.

Take a song like Foreigner's "Hot Blooded," for instance, which is just one of multiple tracks to appear on this triple-disc compilation of so-called Hard Rock Essentials here that happens to deal with the complex subject matter of, *checks notes*, being extremely horny. "Hot Blooded" was a hit in its day, sure, but so were literally tens of thousands of other songs too. And I guess, at the end of the day, I just don't really understand why this song, and so many other ones that are featured on this comp as well, has earned its keep as a fixture of constant classic rock radio rotation. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, is "Hot Blooded" really all that remarkable of a song, so much so, that we need to keep continuously hearing it on our radios year after year? No way!

But, folks, I have to admit that it is actually far too late for me on this front. I am by no means a boomer, but I was, at one point, part of another segment that, like clockwork, fell prey to classic rock radio too: the insufferable tweenage boy subset who grew exasperated with the mindlessness of his own generation's contemporary top 40 fare and decided that "Smoke On the Water" and other songs of its ilk were actually the best shit in the world. Little did we know at the time, and some of us still refuse to see it, that a lot of this shit was actually every bit just as dumb as the stuff that we were trying to so actively avoid. God, how embarrassing.

But I really just cannot help it at this point. As much sense as I've tried to make at the top of this post, I really did have a substantial classic rock phase, and now that shit is just hard-coded into my own DNA. Quiet Riot's "Cum On the Feel the Noize" is not a song that deserves to ever be heard by anyone ever again—it's so fucking bad!—but God damnit, I can't stifle the smile that starts to plant itself on my face whenever that stupid thing comes on. And it's much the same for the vast majority of the other tracks that are on this comp too.

So, while Hard Rock Essentials might be revered as a biblical classic rock sampling for both a certain type of tweenage boy and white boomer alike, for me, personally, it's nothing but security blanket rock. This is music that served me well years ago, and I've clearly outgrown it too, but there are also times when I just love to go back and swaddle myself in it as well 😊. And if I'm with someone who swears by this kinda stuff, I'm obviously gonna fully rock out to it with them too, but then maybe, afterwards, I can make their heads explode with a piece of Philadelphia shoegaze from 1996 that only has 26 YouTube views 🤯.

And I'm not gonna really get too much into it here, but we also really need to have some kind of deep reckoning with this whole propped-up and closed-looped classic rock industry that serves itself with all these nearly identical radio station playlists, cheaply produced TV countdown shows, and countless 'greatest of all time' lists on tons of different websites. I'm not trying to do conspiratorial tin foil hattery, but this whole apparatus really needs to have a stick thrown into its spokes, because it's been dominant as an unchallenged authority on classic rock for far too long. Rather than yet another spin of "Rock You Like a Hurricane," a much more thorough exploration of this vast expanse is indeed possible; I can promise you that.

Highlights:

CD1:

Ted Nugent - "Cat Scratch Fever" Great White - "Once Bitten, Twice Shy" Kansas - "Carry On Wayward Son" Quiet Riot - "Cum On Feel the Noise" Warrant - "Heaven" Judas Priest - "You've Got Another Thing Coming" Loverboy - "Lovin' Every Minute of It" Blue Öyster Cult - "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" Scandal - "The Warrior" Living Colour - "Cult of Personality" Mountain - "Mississippi Queen" Argent - "Hold Your Head Up"

CD2:

Foreigner - "Hot Blooded" Bad Company - "Feel Like Makin' Love" INXS - "Need You Tonight" Damn Yankees - "High Enough" Ratt - "Round and Round" Skid Row - "I Remember You" Black Sabbath - "Heaven and Hell" The Doobie Brothers - "China Grove" White Lion - "Wait" April Wine - "Just Between You and Me" Twisted Sister - "We're Not Gonna Take It"

CD3:

Whitesnake - "Is This Love" Golden Earring - "Radar Love" Joe Walsh - "Rocky Mountain Way" Scorpions - "Rock You Like a Hurricane" The Allman Brothers Band - "Whipping Post" Uriah Heep - "Easy Livin'"

[marley-manson]

2, 3, and 17 for Hawkeye

Thank you!

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

The gay jokes. Which, in the 70s context, includes the feminizing jokes.

Like first of all it's why I started watching Mash in the first place lol, and it was worth it just for that. But also, and I know I've talked about this before but it's always worth getting into, I just love the vibes of like 99% of them?

Sure there's the occasional joke that genuinely comes across as homophobic, usually at Frank's expense, but the vast majority of Hawkeye's jokes in particular exist not to make fun of gay guys/effeminate men/gender nonconformity as a concept, but to paint himself as earnestly and proudly non-normative in contrast to the hypermasculine army.

The joke isn't 'haha it's funny to pretend to be gay because I'm so obviously not' and it's not 'haha isn't it pathetic (and probably relatable to you, loser audience member) that i'm not hypermasculine?' The joke is Hawkeye sticking it to the man by embracing everything the man hates rather than trying to live up to the man's draconian standards of gender performance. It's very 60s/70s counterculture that way, and I love that vibe.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

This is hard lol because my actual least favourite things are anomalous moments I consider mischaracterization or other flaws with the show as a whole (eg the show is racist and sometimes it's racist through Hawkeye's dialogue, but it's hard to blame Hawkeye watsonianly because the show clearly paints him as actively anti-racist to a greater extent than any other main character, even if it fails to show it at times lol) rather than things I actually incorporate into my understanding of his character.

And there's the way he loses his sense of rebellion as the show goes on, which is more of a pet peeve with the show's tone shift. Then once I incorporate it into my understanding of Hawkeye through headcanons I enjoy it again as a potential character flaw, so it's hard to call it a least favourite thing about Hawkeye really, even if it sucks a lot to watch at times.

Which I guess leaves the misogyny, specifically in the form of incessantly hitting on women. I don't dislike it as much as Alan Alda wanted me to lol, and I find the later seasons condemnation of it more annoying than the early seasons celebration of it, but I mean aside from the gay/feminine jokes that the womanizing occasionally facilitates, it's always irritating to watch to some degree. I do abstractly enjoy that Hawkeye is very sexual and experienced in theory because it makes it that much harder for fans to headcanon him as sexually repressed and shy lol, but I wish he'd shut the fuck up sometimes.

17. What’s a ship for this character you don’t hate but it’s not your favorite that you’re fine with?

All gay Hawkeye ships that don't make him top by default, except hawktrap because that is my favourite. So basically, any gay Hawkeye ship except Hawkeye/Radar I guess lol. Assuming "fine with" here means that the ship wouldn't make me backbutton out of a fic that I would otherwise enjoy. I'm "fine with" any ship existing in general, but there's plenty that would stop me from reading a fic.

ask meme

[sketching-shark]

Ngl sometimes i feel bad abt disliking LMK so much because some of my friends like it alot and one of them hyperfixates on it. But then i remember just how badly it fucked up in depicting Sun Wukong's character that im pretty sure even villainous portrayals of him in media have given him more dignity, how Six ears basically got woobified and Karma Houdinied despite the show itself showing him as a pretty fucked up villain in S1, how much the Eng Dub butchered the hell out of the Bull Demon Family's dynamic and that this show basically removed one of the core aspects of the story (Buddhism) and then i suddenly dont feel that bad anymore.

Plus its not like they know my actual opinions abt it. As long as they dont ask i think im good lol

Monkie Kid spoilers & complaining & likely exaggerating things below so avert thine eyes if you don't want to see all that

gterewfs not to add even more to the apparently intolerable trend of bringing up Xiyouji when talking about Monkie Kid but it is kind of funny how I've now seen multiple people say a lot of their dislike of the lego show comes from knowing how Sun Wukong can be depicted when he's not being written as a cringefail hermit (X_X). And as is @seasonalsummers if pressed you can probably just tell your friends that Monkie Kid just isn't your thing & leave it at that. Because yeah I've spoken before how it's not fair to expect people to make their way through the ~1,400 pages of the best English translation of the og classic in developing their sense of the journey and Sun Wukong's whole deal, and the vast diversity of depictions of the Monkey King in retellings does seem to stand testament to how much this monkey can be changed to suit the needs of a story. And as is the existence of Zaju Xiyou Ji does demonstrate how even in China this monkey's had bouts of being depicted as little more than a selfish clown, so maybe this is just the west's version of that lol.

THAT SAID, aaaaaAAAAAAA yeah genuinely is baffling and frustrating watching many people cheer and clap for what feels like the constant traumatization of Qi Xiaotian and the constant use of Sun Wukong as Monkie Kid's punching bag. Like heavens to betsy Flying Bark has so relentlessly focused on how thoroughly SWK screws up everything in both the past and the present and apparently, on his own admission, spent the entirely of his immortality doing little except making one mistake after another (i.e. routinely fucking up his life and the lives of everyone around him) that one really is left wondering why any of the show's cast would want to be even within 50 miles distance of this monkey, which is definitely something made all the more awesome by the sense that maybe the main reason is because the obvious villains of every season are explicitly trying to take over/ blow up the entire world rather than blundering their way into that position :(. And that's a dynamic definitely made even MORE awesome by everyone's favorite poor little meow meow never did anything wrong ever the Six-Eared Macaque spending the majority of his screen time both beating the tar out of Qi Xiaotian and telling anyone who will listen what a dumb bitch Sun Wukong is before the show then bends over backwards to validate his claims all while making sure he's never even slightly called out for the shit he pulls, with the clear favoritism made all the more clearer by such facts as Sun Wukong got screamed at by Long Xiaojiao in an extensive and dramatic scene for putting basically the monkie gang and the entirety of reality in danger through his doofus decisions and yet even though she literally watched the shadow simian beat Qi Xiaotian into unconsciousness and literally had her life seriously threatened by this same monkey until Tang Shifu started oh yeah the Fire of Samadhi ritual she's apparently perfectly fine with working with Mr. Six not long after. Add on top of that the way it now feels like SWK's not even really allowed to be friends with anyone except Macaque or even to interact with any of his other former besties in any meaningful way, and well this is really making for a not fun situation that keeps steering the plot away from some of the most interesting fun and heartfelt things that Monkie Kid could have done. And then on top of that Flying Bark has now shown themselves to have this habit of spending the majority of each season focusing on what a screw-up SWK is before waiting until the last possible episode before characters who up to that point couldn't have made their hatred for the Monkey King and Qi Xiaotian by extension more clear start pulling out abrupt and honestly hand-wavey reasons for why they suddenly like him. IDK! I like a good redemption arc but that's not something you can speedrun and then pretend like it's even remotely satisfying! And definitely doesn't do SWK any favors with the way he just stands there maybe looking kind of sad while someone yells at him for sucking entire before he runs off to suck at everything again and is barely ever allowed to be explicitly and messily upset about that or about what a colossal failure his life is or idk mayhaps what happened to the og pilgrims that apparently resulted in their premature deaths!! For as much as people keep saying they want characters to redeem themselves through living and working to be better and be upset and fucked up about their pasts well it sure might be nice in this situation if we actually got to spend some time on that instead of just relentlessly piling one catastrophic blunder on top of the other! tsetawraer sorry for the rant but yeah still pretty shocked on how much a silly lego show that started off as having fun adventures with the Monkey King would turn into the grimdark adventures of Young Man Traumatized, Asshole Goku, and the Stalker Shadow (X_X)

[opinated-user]

On the one hand, I want to be glad Lily only writes "intersex" characters when they're sexy hot futas fucking everything in their path. It means that all intersex people who don't have two sets of fully functioning genitalia - which is the overwhelming majority of us - are safe from being depicted as lusty rapists or TERFy villains.

On the other hand, while the number of intersex people who actually match her porn/hentai influenced version of the word are very few, they still got depicted as serial pedophiles in Lily's work, incapable of not raping people because intersex = horny all the time for all things.

As an intersex person who Lily would never write due to not being sufficiently sexy to masturbate to, I have privilege over those who are most often reduced to fetish fuel by her and other horny porn addicts online. And I do want to acknowledge that. I'm safe from her horniness, but not all intersex people are.

Plus, with how Lily thinks gender and sex work, you know she'd 100% be one of those people to write intersex people as nonbinary and go "biologically they ARE nonbinary!" and ignore the vast majority of intersex people who identify with a binary gender. (And then never write rep for binary-identified intersex people due to her utter lack of diversity in writing; she puts in a maximum of one non-sapphic non-cis non-perisex character at absolute most.)

they still got depicted as serial pedophiles in Lily's work, incapable of not raping people because intersex = horny all the time for all things.

i bring up this part in particular because this is not exactly how LO wrote rainbow. she wrote this character as a pedophile who is horny all the time and has her entire personality reduced to having sexy very specifically because of the presence of testosterone in her body. she actually writes a doctor who explains that for people with testosterone is pretty normal to be attracted to teenagers (of 14 years old if you're curious) and as long they can supress some of the hormones then it will be fine... which at the time was also bizarre to read because this is literally more gender essentialism. terfs and other bigots constantly like to talk about testosterone like some kind of poison that makes someone into a raging horny animal. transmasc people many times speak about how this kind of rethoric was what kept many of them from hrt for a long time. this was written by a trans woman. Brittany can confirm this, but i think that LO was just coming to term with being trans or was still not out when that fic was written so... considering that, it sounds disgustingly as someone trying to cope and justify the ugly tendencies they already know they have by blaming it on biology. speculation from my part, but still noteworthy. it's not so much a reflection of intersex people, as a reflection of what she thought a type of hormones could do to a person.